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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412788">Mmmm Dem Arms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterberries/pseuds/otterberries'>otterberries</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Welcome to the Game (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Don’t take anything seriously, One sided relationship, Other, small daddy kink, why did I post this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:48:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterberries/pseuds/otterberries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I kept quiet and still, staring out in hopes of catching a glimpse of whoever this mysterious trespasser was. Ever so slowly a dark figure moved outside the window. My breath caught, my fingers clenched, my heart skipped a beat- was I having a heart attack?- as I saw those arms. They rippled with untold power laced through the pounds of muscle glowing alabaster under the moonlight. Forward backward forward backward my eyes traced every smooth slope and curve of those biceps, the thin tight black T-shirt left nothing to the imagination.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mmmm Dem Arms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I regret little.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Welcome To My Inner (Russian) Desires<br/>TiffTiff, Hollinder, Rohini (tall) didn’t help much, Rohini(short) didn’t help at all, Sofia judged us, Alex died laughing</p><p>Chapter 1: </p><p>It was a Tuesday night when it all started. My friend Adam Tootooriel skype called me and I pressed ignore because fuck that bastard. I have better things to do than listen to him prattle on about his anti-hack programs. I always get a weird sense of deja vu with him... I’m pretty sure he broke into my house to download them as I did not give him a key.</p><p>My goal, just like many others, is to find the infamous Red Room. I don’t quite know why outside of the intriguing name. I feel a yearning connection to it. I must find Red Room. And I will no matter how many sleepless nights it takes. My heart demands it.</p><p>However my efforts are continuously thwarted by my shitty internet connection. I can’t believe I had to wait fifteen fucking minutes to have a page error. All night long. (But now I know where to hire a hitman and buy bulk drugs to pay said hitman.)</p><p>Using the anti-hacking software I managed to keep all my useless notes even during cheeto brakes.</p><p> </p><p>    Day One<br/>10:00 pm: Choosen Awake works, but WTF too many circles. <br/>Nothing else. Not even a single heart.</p><p>10:15: Took an entire 15 minutes to get back to home page.</p><p>10:30: Clicked on BATHROOM CAMS, checked own bathroom for cameras, took a piss.</p><p>10:45: Fuck these notes. Forty-five minutes in already been hacked. Why do hackers use the &amp; symbol. And make it looked like mini games.</p><p>11:00: Stop taking notes for today. I think I will go to QD for vodka and a lonely night.</p><p>3:00 am: Wished to make one more note to myself- get new curtains. My neighbors must be able to see me through them.</p><p>After a few days of useless searching, staring at the walls, calling sick for work, and checking my dating profiles I finally found one. One of the hidden eight codes! However, my shitty luck struck again as I was hacked and lost my notes and a few days. Curse you Adam Tootooriel and Guccifer 2.0 and your wicked ways! The codes have probably been reset so I must start over. I am further than ever from my desire.</p><p>    Day 7</p><p>    10:00 pm: Decided to write down times of when websites work. Not like I have anything <br/>better to do between page loads.</p><p>    11:30 am: DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT</p><p>    11:45 am: Got some coffee with extra creamcream</p><p>    1:00 am: I have this uncomfortable feeling of… something. Did I pay my taxes? </p><p>    2:00 am: There is one link I have not managed to crack. One link that continues to elude <br/>my eyes. I have tried at 11:00 pm, 3:00 am, and even as late as 5:00 am but it never works. My curiosity continues to grow. Grandma’s Fantasy’s, perhaps tonight I will find out.</p><p>    3:45 am: Father Donald and his preaching from hell works. Fuck that website. I’m done <br/>for tonight. Good night while I dream about crucifixion and whispers of creepy old men. (What is it with these websites and old people fantasies)</p><p>4:30 am: There was the sound of a chair scraping in my kitchen. Decided to call it a <br/>night.</p><p>The next day I did not start until 2:00 am as my friend continued to bother my about celebrity and political drama. I did not care as much but maybe, if I find the Red Room I can suggest Donald Trump for the next showing.</p><p>    Day 8</p><p>    2:00 am: Forgive Me had a code. 2-20eb. Fuck yes. I'm getting somewhere… Finally.</p><p>3:00 am: Testicular Mutilation, I'm so glad it didn't work. Someone needs Jesus. Father Donald could oblige.</p><p>3:45 am: Called it a night after I heard footsteps in my house. I turned the light off, walked to bed, and tried to push the noise from my head. I'm sure I am hearing things, I haven't been getting enough sleep. I think my house is haunted. Or it might be those curtains.</p><p>The Forgive Me website was interesting. To see all those confessions... Before going to bed I decided to leave my own: ‘I wish for strong arms. Ones that will hold me tenderly at night as I dream of the Red Room. Powerful fingers combing through my hair as I wait for the next page to load. I wanted these arms on me, around me, in me. I wished… for something Russian’. The bottle of vodka called to me.</p><p> </p><p>    Day 9-10<br/>11:00 pm: Decided to figure out the ChoosenAwake puzzle. Fuck this....</p><p>I wasted a day and a half on ChoosenAwake, at least it wasn't a waste of time. I got an address for a second part to the deep web. Hurrah….</p><p>I will investigate tomorrow. Bed time. Or more like vodka and ice cream. I am 90% sure my house is haunted, i keep hearing things. Scrapes, steps, I am positive I left that chair pushed in and the window closed. It also feels like something or someone is watching me. I'm gonna need to buy more vodka. </p><p>...This venture is turning me into an alcoholic… This doesn’t bother me as much as it should.</p><p>Day 11: </p><p>12:00 am: Another DOS blocker.</p><p>12:15 am: TAKE THAT DOS BLOCKER!</p><p>12:30 am: What is with all these DOS blockers</p><p>12:45 am: Please Father Donald, never let me look unto another arrow.</p><p>1:15 am: Black Hat Post proved successful! For once one of these damn websites had something. Without a hack either I could kiss my screen. 5-1bE4. Red Room, I am one step closer to you.</p><p>2:00 am: Legion, the song embedded in the website scared the living shit out of me. I wasn't expecting to get my ear drums blown tonight, but… A code! 4-f7d9</p><p>Around 3:30 am a crash resounded throughout the house, tearing me away from my computer screen. I swiveled in my chair, facing the light switch. I debated turning it off, or keeping it on to investigate. Maybe the ghost is coming for me. </p><p>I wondered for a second if the websites (and the hacker) could track me to my home. With this horrible revelation, I turned the lights off with a flick of my wrist. I sat back down and waited in the dark for a few minutes. I am glad I did because I heard scraping of a chair and footsteps not long after. </p><p>With baited breath, I got up to investigate. </p><p>Right as I walked into the kitchen, i noticed the blue vase my mother had given me as a housewarming gift, shattered in a million pieces on the floor. Next thing I noticed was my bottle of vodka sitting out on the table next to a pushed out chair. Hesitancy in every move, I picked the bottle up to notice it empty. </p><p>What the actual Fuck? What kind of ghost drinks alcohol? I had a sudden sinking feeling it wasn't a ghost that was my new unknown roommate. </p><p>Why am I a little excited by this?</p><p>I decided to ignore the mess and the empty vodka bottle, because you know what? I didn’t create the mess, it is not my problem. It was probably Adam Tootooriel breaking into my house again. So, time for bed and tomorrow night I will continue my search for the elusive Red Room.</p><p>Day 12:</p><p>    1:00 am: The Gatekeeper is terrifying. I do not know how to answer half of these questions.<br/>    What do the lugaroos ask for? Uh… Virgins?<br/>    Hacked.<br/>    Cheapest site for heroine? CottonRoad? Nope.<br/>    Hacked. Leave me alone, please.<br/>    Price for an Ak-47? Yeah, no clue.<br/>    Hacked. WTF, please stop.<br/>    I’m done.<br/>    I have wasted hours trying to answer these questions.</p><p>    4:15 am: There is a tracking symbol on my computer, ohmygod wh-</p><p>In my panic I shut the whole computer off and without a second thought, I turned the light off too. </p><p>That was when I heard the footsteps outside my window followed by a deep voice mumbling… What is that language? Russian? I felt a short lived thrill down my spine. There is always something about that sexy Russian accent that got my blood flowing and my jowls quivering even at the strangest of times. The excitement died a swift death when I realized the heavy footsteps were getting closer. There is a man outside my window. </p><p>I strained to hear what the man spoke with my language skills. Let’s be real here, I have shit language skills. I lasted only two years in my college russian classes. Still, I understood some of the words. However, it didn’t quite make sense and I’m 90% sure I heard wrong. There is no way a man is muttering “I hate the dark” while prowling outside someone's home at odd hours of the nights.</p><p>I kept quiet and still, staring out in hopes of catching a glimpse of whoever this mysterious trespasser was. Ever so slowly a dark figure moved outside the window. My breath caught, my fingers clenched, my heart skipped a beat- was I having a heart attack?- as I saw those arms. They rippled with untold power laced through the pounds of muscle glowing alabaster under the moonlight. Forward backward forward backward my eyes traced every smooth slope and curve of those biceps, the thin tight black T-shirt left nothing to the imagination. </p><p>Those muscles looked hard, I wondered what else could be.</p><p>Oh god, I shook myself from my fantasy. What was I thinking? Of a man trespassing on my property? I can’t believe I desire to have an amazing night with those… oh there those muscles go rippling again. Who am I kidding, I want him to bend me over backwards and have his way while he holds me with those strong arms. (And pray he had deft fingers as well. With a bottle of vodka as an encore.)</p><p>I dreamt of arms. </p><p>Several hours into my search the next night I saw the tracking symbol appear again. I needed to check my theory. With all the lights off I barely managed to control my breathing as heavy footsteps approached. Excitement grew; I recognized the gait. I drank in his appearance as he slowly prowled past the window. Arms as beautiful as ever. It was him. “I hate the dark.” Russian. Definitely him.</p><p>Fuck the Red Room but fuck him. I needed to prepare for next night.</p><p>    Day 14:</p><p>    10:15 pm: No tracking symbol yet</p><p>    11:30 pm: Still nothing.</p><p>    1:00 am: So bored, searching through the deep web again.Oh hey, this site is actually <br/>interesting. Still no tracking symbol</p><p>    3:30 am: Illuminati! It works. Meh, still no tracking….</p><p>Are my efforts bound to be useless? I tried hard tonight. Still nothing. Maybe I would have to try again tomorrow.</p><p>But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tracking symbol appear. This time, though, I'm not going to hide in the dark. I know what it means, who is coming, and I am ready for it.</p><p>I opened up a YouTube tab and selected the correct video. I quickly ran over to turn the light off. </p><p>I heard the footsteps and… That (Mmm) voice first. Then he came into view. With use of the wheels on the chair, I pushed backwards just enough to turn the light back on. His head snapped towards the window, not expecting me to turn it on. </p><p>I turned my chair to face the window and tried my best to pose sexily. All the while attempting (and failing) to secretly scoot closer to the computer. </p><p>He prowled towards the window with powerful strides. His arms tensing in anticipation and his gaze from here looked smoldering. I almost giggled at the dramatic flare he used to jump through the window. </p><p>“Hey,” The Russian started. </p><p>“Hey,” I interrupted, voice scratchy from days of not talking. I then subtly (once again, tried to - I am not subtle at all) pressed the spacebar to activate the video. </p><p>I spoke huskily along with the words, “Hey, you there.” I pointed my finger towards him, “I see you over there.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. </p><p>I wondered what his expression is on that beautifully chiseled face, covered with that damnable mask. </p><p>“I want you to come here,” I continued, moving my pointed finger in the ‘come hither’ motion. I jammed my hand down on the spacebar to abruptly end the song. I shifted my body to a more open position, ran my fingers through my hair, and stared at those broad shoulders. I licked my lips slowly as my eyes drifted down his arms and back up to his face.</p><p>He took a determined step toward. I felt anticipation rise in me and blood start flowing. I flushed a deep red everywhere.</p><p>I watched hungrily as those sexy arms rose. The masked Russian took another surging step forward. Things were getting heated. </p><p>Almighty arms wrapped around me. I felt at home. Yes, this is what I want. </p><p>“Would you be my Daddy?”</p>
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